33 Per Cent And Other Drabbles
by MiladyGirl
Summary: A collection of drabbles with various themes, pairings and whatnot. Based on word prompts.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

I thought I'd try writing drabbles with prompts but without songs. It's not really my usual board of motivation, but everything's worth trying when you feel like you're in a slump, right?

Besides, it did take flight about halfway, so it turned out to be a fun pastime for me if nothing else. :P

Clean for now (there is no _explicit_ cursing here!), but I'm not promising it won't tiptoe on the line to mature at some point. Consider yourself warned.

* * *

 **33 %**

"Did you know that 33 % of American adults aren't getting a sufficient amount of sleep?" Reid informed the sleep-deprived team, with possibly a bit less consideration than the topic demanded.

"I know I sure don't," Rossi muttered.

"The correct number is actually 35 %," Blake said and stifled a yawn behind her hand.

Reid, so caught off guard to have someone correcting him for the first time in years, made a shocked little noise in the back of his throat. It sounded like ' _nik'_.

Morgan raised his head.

"So _that's_ what it sounds like when a genius's star falls. Thank you, Blake, I've wondered about that for years."

"Are you sure?" Reid asked Blake, furrowing his brow. "I've heard it's 33%."

"I'm not questioning your eidetic memory, Reid," Blake sighed. "It's a common number in reports, but it's incorrect."

"How would _you_ know?"

Reid had gotten as little sleep as the rest of them on this case, and now he sounded whiny. Even knowing he did couldn't make him stop. Luckily Blake had gone past the irritable stage of sleep deprivation to the laid-back 'everything goes' stage, and didn't snap at him. Instead she took out her cell phone and pushed it across the table towards him.

"Call the contact 'Barbara Jones' and ask her," she said. Reid's eyes bulged out.

" _The_ Barbara Jones? The pioneer in sleep medicine?"

Blake nodded and yawned again.

"She went to med school with my husband. I see her every Thanksgiving. I think his parents made secret plans to have James marry her instead of me, but…" she shrugged and smiled. "Turned out she preferred his sister's company."

Reid _was_ less excited than he would have been if Blake would have revealed that she knew Stephen Hawking personally, but not by much.

"And _she_ says it's 35 %?"

"She says it's 35 %," Blake confirmed.

"Then why do you let me go around saying 33 %?" Reid said in a voice sounding so disgusted it made them all laugh.

"Because since joining the BAU my one goal in life is to one day find something wrong in your fact-spouting," Blake said. "As satisfying as it was, now I'm under the pressure of having to find another goal in life."

"How about getting 8 hours sleep a night?" Rossi muttered. "In case you don't notice, that's the goal _I'm_ trying to reach."

"Good luck with that, you'd need a career change to manage that," Hotch said.

"So speaks the man who hasn't slept since 1982," Rossi tossed back.

"As I said, you'd need a career change to manage 8 hours sleep per night," Hotch said, completely unfazed.

"Technically, it's daytime now," Reid said, looking out the window of the plane at the brightening skies, carrying the blush of early morning.

"Nope," Morgan replied. "I don't care what time it is, it's not morning until I have slept."

"Amen and shut up," Rossi added.

A loud _'snorrrkkkkk'_ could be heard from JJ's seat next to the window. Silence followed, then an almost equally loud exhale.

"I don't know about you, but personally I resent that she alone gets to represent the other 65 % of the American population," Blake said, shaking her head. "Screw this, I'm taking an Ambien."

"That should be a lot of fun to witness," Reid mused. "Remember when we shared a room and you took Ambien? I have to admit, I don't think I've ever heard a more entertaining bedtime story than your recounting of the spots in the ceiling and their day at the country fair."

Blake's hand, hovering over her go-bag, sank back onto her lap.

"Right. I'm never taking those in company again."

"Fine, but would you mind telling the story again, at least?" Reid asked and leaned back. "As I remember it, it was amusing and yet highly soporific."

"Soporific means sleep-inducing," Blake said before anyone else could ask. "No, I won't, and don't you _dare_ use that eidetic memory against me."

Reid got that obstinate 'teen-challenging-his-mom' look in his eyes. Blake didn't even consult her heart on the matter; she crushed it mercilessly.

"33 %," she said, really dragging the words out. Reid glared at her.

"If it wasn't for doctor Barbara Jones's impeccable reputation in the field, you wouldn't get away with mocking me."

"Shut up," Rossi groaned.

"Suddenly, rectifying a factual error is referred to as 'mocking', _what_ is the world _coming_ to?" Blake said, rolling her eyes.

"I'll tell you what it's…" Reid began.

"I'd like to hear the story about the spots in the ceiling and their country fair," Rossi interrupted. "Either that, or the even lovelier sound _of silence_."

"Got it. Sorry," Blake said, raising both hands slightly in a gesture to show she capitulated, but under the table, she gave Reid a kick. He kicked her right back and mouthed two, or to be specific, three words, very well-articulated in their complete silence;

" _How pre-school."_

Blake bared her teeth in an evil grin and soundlessly mouthed a few words back.

" _Thirty-three per cent."_

Reid's eyes darkened.

" _Fu-"_

Blake raised her eyebrows, as if daring him to complete the sentence.

" _-uh...-ine, you win."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Colours**

After finally getting Henry to sleep, Reid was exhausted. He wasn't going to admit it to JJ anytime soon, but babysitting was harder than he thought. He always had such great plans for the event, but it turned out that taking care of kids, especially small ones, rarely fit into pre-made schedules.

Well. Henry had had fun (and so had Reid), and he had gotten his dinner _almost_ on time. The fact that the kitchen now was a mess and there were watercolour stains on the living room carpet was a different story. The boy was alive and well and put to bed, that was what counted in Reid's book. As for the mess, well, he'd clean that up in a minute, he just had to catch his breath for a moment.

Reid sank down on the couch and was asleep almost before his butt connected with the soft cushion seat. It wasn't the first time he had made that mistake while babysitting. He blamed it on the couch.

* * *

Several hours later, a more than slightly tipsy JJ stumbled in through the door and almost tripped herself in the process. Emily, who was even drunker but had insisted on seeing her friend to the door, began to laugh. JJ hushed her, made an almost elegant pirouette-ish sidestep and knocked over Henry's tricycle. It fell to the floor with a loud crash followed by a light ringing of the bell. Emily doubled over and roared with laughter.

"Shh, you'll wake Henry!" JJ hissed.

"After your less than graceful entrance, he's gotta be awake already," Emily slurred and wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

The commotion had awoken Reid, and now he sheepishly went out to greet them.

"I fell asleep," he admitted before JJ could get inside and see the evidence of food and playtime all over the house. "I meant to clean it up. I promise I will. What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Emily started laughing again, now with the addition of the hiccups, a development that seemed to amuse her even further. JJ really tried to hold back her own laughter, but it was already seeping out of her, like steam, and she held up her makeup mirror so Reid could see his face in the reflection.

"Why am I _blue_?!" Reid shrieked. "It could be serious! Oxygen-deprivation…"

"It's blue marker," JJ said, and now she couldn't keep from laughing any longer. The look on Reid's blue face when she stated the obvious was the final trigger.

"Oh."

Henry stood by the staircase with a blue whiteboard marker in his hand, giggling quietly at uncle Spencer's reaction. Then he realised that his mother was peeking around the corner, and rushed up the stairs and snuck in under his bedcovers, content with having gotten away with his prank.

When you're only five years old, it's understandable that you forget to get rid of the compelling evidence, and while his fake sleep slowly turned into a genuine one, he was still clutching the blue marker in his little hand.

* * *

 **Only Human**

 _Contains sort-of spoilers for season 9: Blood Relations._

JJ kept stealing glances of Blake as they drove back to the hotel. The older woman was slumped in the passenger's seat, huddled up in a shirt much too large for her, and looked like a total wreck. It was lightyears from Blake's usual self, but somehow JJ found it easier to like this ruffled, dejected version of her.

"Alex," she said. Blake slowly turned in her direction. Exhausted, with dirty hair, no makeup and in the aftermath of a near-death experience, she looked older than her years. It struck JJ that she had never seen Blake without either makeup or the invisible walls she liked to surround herself with.

"What?"

"It's okay."

Blake nodded.

"Yeah, I know. It's okay. I'm fine."

She spoke mechanically and JJ knew just from the tone of her voice that she was still in shock. As if proving it, Blake swallowed several times, trying to hold back a sob, and shook her head.

"But I couldn't breathe, JJ. I couldn't breathe."

She took a huge, gasping breath as if she couldn't get enough air even though it was everywhere around her, fully accessible now.

"I know, but it's over now. Take deep, slow breaths," JJ instructed her calmly. "Do you want me to stop the car? Do you think you're going to be sick?"

Blake forced herself to get it together.

"No. I think I've embarrassed myself more than enough for one day as it is," she said dryly, and JJ smiled. That sounded more like the usual Blake.

"You nearly died, I don't think anyone blames you for having a reaction to that," JJ replied. "We may be trained to keep our cool in serious situations, but we're only human."

Blake pondered this for a moment. All her life she had tried to be a superhuman, tried and inevitably failed. Maybe it was time to accept that she too was entitled to being afraid and vulnerable once in a while. It was a concept she had always shied away from, but now that she embraced the thought she felt a huge sense of relief spread within.

"You're actually right."

JJ scoffed.

"Please don't make it sound like _that_ only happens once every ten years," she complained, and Blake let out a weak, quick laugh before she grew serious again.

"Could you stay with me tonight?" she asked hesitantly. "I… don't want to be alone right now."

"Sure," JJ said, and that was it. Asking for help obviously wasn't as difficult as Blake had pictured it. In her mind, she had built a brick wall of resistance, and now she found to her surprise that this brick wall was just stage décor made out of cardboard.

"Thank you." Those words didn't seem to be enough to convey the full extent of relief and gratitude that she felt, but they had to make do, at least for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

I got the idea today when I took my horse out for a ride. Everything was lovely… then I noticed that the mosquitoes had awakened, and BOY WERE THEY BIG! Then when I got back I realised that I had burned my shoulders in the sun. I _love_ nature. Until I'm in it.

(I didn't recall until I had finished this that JJ is supposed to have a phobia of the woods. So... just disregard that and see this as slightly AU, please? :)

Next one, just to redeem her toughness and give her a bit of a break with the embarrassment, will probably have Blake play the role of caretaker for any of the other... possibly Reid or Garcia. Haven't decided yet. ;)

* * *

 **Nature's Fury**

Blake didn't want to view herself as a 'princess on the pea' type, at least she tried not to complain openly when she was in distress, but she did prefer some degree of comfort. The woods were not comfortable in any way. There were disgusting insects everywhere, and some of them seemed to have decided that she was a delicious meal.

"How come _you_ don't get bitten?" she snarled at JJ as she swatted yet another irritating mosquito. JJ smiled.

"I don't know. Mosquitoes just don't like my blood, it seems."

"That has to do with skin bacteria," Reid said. "Those unattractive to mosquitoes have a greater diversity of microbes on their skin, which gives a different kind of body odour…"

"Ugh, thank you," JJ said and made a disgusted face.

"Also, studies have shown that those mosquitoes find highly attractive generally have a very good ability to process cholesterol," Reid continued, but a bit less confident as he realised his audience seemed rather uncomfortable.

"See?" JJ said, turned to Blake. "I don't get bitten, but in exchange I have more skin bacteria and a poorer ability to process cholesterol."

"Not more skin bacteria per say, but a greater diversity of its fauna," Reid said.

"I cannot believe you just used the word 'fauna' to describe microbes living on my body," JJ said and Blake shook her head a little, simultaneously trying to get rid of the image and tell JJ to drop the subject before Reid served up even more disgusting facts.

"Forget I asked," she said and shuddered. "As if there aren't enough creepy creatures out here."

JJ grinned.

"You're _really_ not the outdoorsy type, are you?"

"Me? I hate nature," Blake said. "I only like it in pictures. I'm wheezing and sneezing in spring, I'm mauled by bloodsucking creatures _and_ get sunburns in the summer, I get depressed in fall and I freeze to death in winter. The only nature I agree with is in parks and gardens. Possibly."

"Blake, have you heard of a fairytale called "The Princess And The Pea"? Reid asked. "It's by H.C Andersen, and…"

"I'm familiar with it, yes," Blake cut him off. Reid didn't seem too bothered.

"… and you remind me of that one right now," he finished and stepped over a root, one that Blake tripped over two seconds later. "Either that, or nature really _is_ out to get you," he mused as Blake let loose with a stream of profanities and tried to untangle her hair from the tree branch she had gotten stuck in.

"Yeah, I think we have enough evidence to go with the latter," she said, and JJ began to giggle.

"Be still Alex, I'll get you untangled in no time," she said. "I've done this before, Emily also tended to get stuck in tree branches and bushes."

"So did Elle," Reid reminded her, and JJ's giggle turned into full-out laughter.

"Well, there is one in every team," she remarked and yanked Blake to the side before she stepped on the snake that basked in the sunlight. "But I think you're the worst so far."

"I hate the outdoors," Blake murmured under her breath.

"I don't think the outdoors is thrilled about you either," JJ smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**

This is an idea I've had in my mind for quite a while. Since it is hinted that Reid already knew Blake before she started at the BAU, I pictured Gideon to be the one introducing them. Combined with the prompt I had, I thought this scene would have worked pretty well. It's obviously set way back, sometime in season 1 or even earlier. And it goes with the Ethan plotline that I normally try to pretend never happened. LOL

This one has a more serious tone than the previous, and it's longer, but there's nothing wrong with a change of pace once in a while, right...?

* * *

 **Fork In The Road**

"No, Jason," Alex Blake said. Her voice was soft but firm. "I know what you're trying to do, and I don't care what your profile says. I'm not ready."

"Nobody is ever ready," Jason Gideon replied. "The kid isn't ready either."

"Then how could you have thought this was a good idea?"

"Because you have both reached a fork in the road and you are both very close to taking the one that leads astray. If you walk together, you'll create a new road for both of you."

Blake sighed.

"I don't think my choice of road is any of your business."

"You're right, it isn't," he said simply. "But I don't particularly like to see one of the most brilliant minds I know start down a path of destruction. It's been two years. You need to start processing the loss of Ethan."

Blake sucked in air in something that was part a gasp and part a choke.

"You leave Ethan out of this!"

"No, Alex. _You_ leave Ethan out of this. I'm not saying you'll get over his death; no parent will ever fully get over the death of a child, but I _am_ saying it's time that you start processing it and move on with your life. You are becoming cold and inflexible, and that's not the Alex I used to know."

"People change."

" _Events_ change _people_ ," Gideon corrected her. "I won't sugar-coat it. I know you're still hurting, but if you do nothing to break this circle, you won't even be in the Bureau five years from now. Probably not in a lecture hall either. You'll most likely be in rehab. Or dead."

"So you think if I babysit your apprentice I'd avoid that hypothetical fate?"

Gideon laughed softly.

"Trust me, he may be a handful, but you won't be babysitting him. He's twenty years old and smarter than the two of us combined, Alex. Can you _imagine_ his struggle?"

Blake could, if only in a most theoretical way. Extreme intelligence can be as crippling as a severe disability – in fact, you could argue that it _is_ one. You don't hear references to someone as "severely intelligent", but in a way, that's what it's like. The difference lies in how society views them, but even that difference isn't very big when you think about it. Extremely intelligent people are sometimes _admired_ , but never _understood_ , doomed to be outcasts in a world that doesn't feel comfortable around minds that differ from the norm.

"Yes," she said. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"He loves his mother, but he could never depend on her the way a child like him needs to. She too is highly intelligent. She is also a schizophrenic. What he needs is a stabilising female presence. Someone who is calm, consistent, kind, mature _and_ intelligent enough to follow at least the greater part of his thought processes without dismissing him."

He saw that he had gotten through to the mother's heart that she had sealed up and hid away two years ago, and waited for her to see it too.

"A substitute mother for a genius who never got to be a kid," she concluded, and she wanted it to sound condescending, but couldn't really manage it, for there was a hint of longing in her voice as well. "I don't know about that, Jason."

But now she wanted to say yes. Gideon smirked a little.

"I tell you what, if you agree to consult on this case that so heavily relays on linguistic clues, I'll team you up and you'll get to know each other professionally. If it's not working out the way I think it will by the time we close the case, you are both welcome to keep wandering down your respective roads of ruin. Deal?"

Blake rubbed her temples as if she was getting a headache. Gideon watched her considering his suggestion – request, actually – with careful hope. Blake was tough to profile. She often _seemed_ predictable, almost slow at times, but he knew that the intellect behind those very dark eyes was swift and near completely independent of regular association flow – she didn't need linear thinking to arrive to conclusions. He didn't know many capable of it to that degree; as far as he knew, apart from her, he was the only one. That made him able to guess her answer with some accuracy, but not predict it any more than other people could predict _him_.

"Deal," she eventually said. "But on one condition; I don't want either of us to feel like we're trapped to an arrangement if it just doesn't work."

"An agreeable condition," he said. Blake smiled.

"So it is, and do you agree with it?"

"Of course." He turned around and called out down the corridor. "Reid! Come over here and meet doctor Blake!"

A tall, lanky man who looked more like a teenager than a grown man, got up from a bench and walked towards them. Blake had seen him in the background when Gideon arrived but had taken him for a student who was on a break.

"This is doctor Spencer Reid," Gideon said. Blake smiled and held out her hand. The newcomer glanced nervously at it.

"I don't shake hands, if that's okay," he mumbled quickly. Blake let her hand fall back.

"It's fine. I'm not too excited about the practise either," she admitted, and he looked her in the eye for a brief moment to see if she was just humouring him or meant what she said. When he noticed that she was sincere, he relaxed. And when Reid relaxed, he wanted to share.

"A single handshake can spread a multitude of pathogens, and some diseases are even directly transferred through handshakes."

Gideon winced a little and held his breath as he waited for Blake's response. She didn't look in his direction at all, she was focused on Reid..

"I know," she told him gently and changed both subject and tone with a single sentence; "What can you tell me about the linguistic clues of the case?"

As Reid began explaining, Blake nodded and seemed to have no problem following his fact-dense thinking, which sometimes proved too much for the BAU team. Gideon decided to fall back, pleased with the development. These two would change one another just enough to create a third path. One where, instead of separately falling to their knees, they would stumble onward together until they began to heal.

It was good to know his instincts still were spot on.


	5. Chapter 5

**Umbrella**

Reid and JJ, soaked and dripping, left the car after an unpleasant drive back from the abduction site in the woods. It had been raining incessantly almost since they stepped out of the car, and they were soaked to the skin, because, wouldn't you know it, the SUV did _not_ have umbrellas in the back, which was common practise.

Both had an idea whose fault it was. Not that it was obvious, as she wasn't really the prankster type, but given how fun Reid and JJ both had had at her ongoing war with nature, the circumstances certainly pointed to the linguist.

"I take it you enjoyed your hike in the lovely, rainy outdoors?" Blake said and turned page in the file she was reading. Morgan shot her a quick, amused glance, grinned for a moment and went back to his copy of the file. Hotch looked as stone-faced as ever.

"You're very smug _you_ didn't get caught out there," JJ said.

"And that's breaking news how?" Blake asked. JJ just shook her head, causing droplets to fly from her hair, and went to find something to dry herself with. Reid lingered for a moment.

"There are usually a bunch of umbrellas in the back of the SUV."

"I know."

"There were none in there today."

"How inconvenient."

"You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

Blake merely smiled and said nothing.

"You know you'll get back for this, right?" Reid grumbled.

JJ returned and tossed a towel at him.

"Did she confess?"

"No, she didn't."

"She'll regret it."

"Yes, she will."

"She doesn't regret a thing," Blake said and immediately slapped a hand over her mouth.

"I think you just incriminated yourself, Alex," Rossi chuckled. Blake rolled her eyes and shook her head a little without offering a verbal comment.

"Go put the umbrellas back before we have to head out again," Hotch said.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Excuse us, we're going to change to dry clothes and plot our revenge," Reid said.

"Don't take too long," Hotch said with a nearly silent sigh. "Blake? If I were you I'd be worried now."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

A couple of drabbles on canon relationships. Blake and her husband in the first (because there were actually some who liked them together, judging by a bunch of PMs I got after posting another fic XD), and the second is Strauss/Rossi.

* * *

 **Bragging**

"Ah, look at that. Usually, _I'm_ the one returning from work with various injuries," Alex said and put her wine glass down on the counter as James came into the kitchen, wearing only jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower, and the bandage shone bright white against the side of his ribcage.

"Oh, this? This is nothing," James said.

Alex crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter. "I always know when _something_ is a _thing_ with you, James, because you always want to hint about it and show it off rather than hiding it."

James winked.

"Well, someone has to, _you_ always try to hide everything. You don't want to show off your battle wounds until they're healed enough that nobody can coddle you over them."

Alex laughed and nodded.

"I'd say that's a pretty accurate profile of me."

James looked back at her, and now he smiled, almost in spite of himself.

"But once they're healed, I think you like showing off your scars."

"Oh God, you're so full of it."

"Really? Funny, I always thought the reason your sport of choice is swimming because then you get to show it off in that scant bathing suit that barely covers…"

Alex smirked and shook her head.

"I think your mind wandered into a completely different territory right now."

"Uh-huh? Well, what if I tell you that I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"I'm looking at the physical evidence right now," Alex said, and the smirk broadened. "What happened anyway?"

"Huh?"

"I'm talking about the injury now, genius. What did you get yourself into?"

"Why are you so sure _I_ got myself into something?"

"Because you are reckless and clumsy and you start things for fun without thinking them through?"

He glared at her. Alex smiled smugly and sipped her wine.

"I _am_ a profiler, you know. I'm also your wife of twenty-some years. What did you do?"

"Um. It's a… I was scratched by a… lion."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"A lion, huh? Wow, you always have to be worst, don't you?"

"Don't even try," James chuckled, "you have _three_ scars from gunshots and one from a stabbing, you can _at least_ let me have this lion scratch to brag about."

"Fine. If those bragging rights are that important to you, then alright."

"Oh, right, because this…" he ran his fingertips down her bare shoulder where a long, ragged silver scar twisted its way down to the underside of her upper arm like a snake. "This, is not something you're secretly very proud of? And this?" He pulled her tank top up and stroke a circular scar with his thumb. "Don't tell me it doesn't make you feel like Xena," James teased.

"Xena?" Alex moaned, enjoying the soft touch. "I don't feel like a warrior"

"No?" he said and kissed her neck.

"I feel like I have made a difference, and I survived."

"Well, I'm sure I made a difference for that lion too," he murmured.

"I hope it didn't get hurt on your account."

"The lion is fine. Actually, it was at a sanctuary. And it didn't exactly attack me. It got its paw stuck in my shirt and scratched me by accident when it tried to get loose."

"Mmhm, see?" she whispered against his mouth. "If I just let you talk long enough, you expose yourself. I knew you hadn't been _attacked_ by a lion."

"You did?"

"Mm."

"How?"

"Because you brag, James," she said, pulled loose and reached for her wine. She handed him the other glass. "Also, your choice of words didn't indicate an attack, or even a struggle."

"That's what I get for marrying a linguist. Will you at least _pretend_ to be impressed when you look at it?"

"Will do," she said and gave him a quick kiss. "Did I mention I was shot yesterday?"

"But oh my God Alex!" James almost spilled his wine.

"Calm down. We played paintball. Garcia's initiative, obviously. And I lost."

"Oh."

"I have to admit, as painful as those paintball shots are, being injured by a lion _is_ more bragworthy. Even if it's just a scratch."

"Bragworthy enough to seduce the girl?" he asked.

"Hmmm, no, but perhaps the girl is interested in some fun with or without bragworthy injuries," she said, put her glass down, took his hand and dragged him off to the bedroom.

* * *

 **Everyday Magic**

"Did anyone see you come here?" Erin Strauss asked.

"Oh cut me some slack Erin, I'm with the FBI, you don't think I can sneak to your place after work without being noticed?" Rossi replied and took off his tie.

"I hate this sneaking around," Strauss said.

"Do you?" Rossi asked playfully as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a light kiss on the lips. Strauss pretended to think about it.

"Hmmmm… no, not really."

"Not really?" he said and kissed her again. She was amused by how his touch and kiss managed to make her heart flutter and her knees go weak. She hadn't believed she could feel that way again, let alone with someone she worked with.

"To be honest, I love it, it's exciting," she admitted. "It's like being sixteen and trying to sneak my boyfriend past my parents' bedroom door."

"That's quite brazen," he said. Strauss smiled sweetly.

"Oh, you have no idea how brazen I can be."

"I think our little rendezvous in your office while the entire BAU was in the bullpen was a bit of an indicator, actually," he said, and she threw her head back and laughed. "And you didn't even lock the door, you naughty girl."

"Mm, well, the only one brave enough to interrupt a… private conversation… would be Aaron."

"What if it had been Aaron, then?"

"That… would have been interesting to find out."

He chuckled.

"Careful, you're making me jealous."

"I know," she purred. "How about you get me out of these clothes soon and show me some magic?"

"If it's magic you're looking for, you've found the right man."

She smiled and stroke his cheek softly with the back of her hand.

"Yes. I know that, too."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**

Let's have some light-hearted drabbles for Saturday. I got myself tangled in some stuff soooo... I'm not in the mood for the more serious subjects. 😊

* * *

 **Enthusiasm**

"How are you doing Dave, you don't seem to be in your best mood?" Hotch said. It was only those closest to him who could detect the trace of playful mockery in his voice, but Rossi did belong to that exclusive circle, and he did detect it.

"Oh, I do wonder why," he replied sarcastically and narrowed his eyes.

"Would it by any chance has anything to do with the forced cooking class you'll be having with the team tonight?"

"Your profiling skills never fail to impress me."

"Would it kill you to feign some enthusiasm?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know, would it kill me _not_ to?" Rossi replied with polite interest. At this point even Hotch couldn't hold back a grin at Rossi's stubborn un-thusiasm.

"How about I come over an hour before the rest of them, and bring a bottle of fine scotch?"

"Ah, now we get to the bribes!" Rossi exclaimed and brightened. "I like that part!"

Hotch chuckled and patted his shoulder.

"And it always works," he said. "See you tonight."

* * *

 **Fall**

"It's not a good idea," Alex said.

"It's a _splendid_ idea," James said while duct taping the broken rainwater pipe together.

Then, just like his wife had predicted, he slipped on the ladder and fell, dragging the duct tape behind him in a long trail, also pulling the pipe apart again.

Alex crossed her arms.

"Can I call the professionals now?"

James groaned and rubbed his back.

"Call the paramedics first. I think my pride is severely, maybe fatally, wounded."

"I doubt it. It has survived worse." Alex said as she hauled him back up on his feet. "Please, stop fixing things around the house." She sighed and looked around at the mess. "Actually, please stop getting splendid ideas."

"Oh, alright, fine. However, you have to admit my youthful agility is impressive."

"Honey, your agility has _never_ been impressive."

"Then why do you even keep me around?"

"Strange as it may sound, and I'm the first to admit that it does, I do seem to love you."

"Right. Yeah. That's a pretty important thing, too."

"Crucial," she agreed. "You ripped your pants."

"So I'm not much of a handyman. But at least you married a doctor," James said as he tried to look over his shoulder and evaluate the damages, with little success.

"Right now, a caretaker or a tailor would have been more useful."

He scrunched up his face in that "I'm thinking so hard it hurts"-way that always made her smirk, but came up empty.

"Damnit, I hate that you always get the last word."

"Well, you _did_ marry a linguist, I'm not sure what else you expected."

"Bah," James huffed, and began walking towards the front door. Alex managed to keep her facial muscles in check until she saw the bright yellow fall leaf that had somehow lodged itself into the tear in his pants and flared cheerfully with each step he took.

 _Looks like a tiny flag_ , she thought, and that was enough to push her over the edge. She laughed so much she doubled over.

"God, you're childish, Alex," James said, oblivious to the sight he was. "It's only underwear."

* * *

 **Party**

"We _seriously_ need to learn our limits," Emily said, holding her head as if it was in danger of cracking in two. "Every time we go out for a girls' night out we end up getting smashed."

"How come you're the one who gets to say that, you're always the one cheering us on," JJ said. "If Garcia and I went out alone we would never end up doing Jell-O shots or the Green Fairy."

Garcia suddenly looked shamefaced.

"I think I was the one who suggested the Green Fairy," she said.

JJ frowned.

"Are you sure?"

"No," Garcia replied. "Everything that happened after the karaoke bar is kind of a blur."

"Karaoke bar?" Emily said. "Please tell me you're joking. I thought we agreed to never go to one of those again."

"I do remember _that_ part, and it was definitely you who wanted to go there," Garcia said. Emily leaned her head back and groaned.

"Next time we go out, let's go somewhere there's no booze."

JJ and Garcia stared at her with identical disbelief.

"Why?"

"You're right. Maybe if we go to a pub and have a beer and then just sit and talk, then?"

The two blondes murmured in agreement. All three knew they'd end up at some hole in the wall at three am either way, but you could at least pretend you'd be on better behaviour next time.

Hotch entered the conference room, wearing his customary neutral expression.

"Rough night?"

"Nah, we're fine," Emily said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Hotch replied dryly, but dropped the subject, something they were all _very_ grateful for.


End file.
